Rachael was too exhausted to do anything but lie back on the pillows and think. She hated to admit it, but the strangely colored concoction Kim and Tama had smeared on her leg had definitely taken away much of the pain. She glanced down at her leg and nearly laughed. Her calf and ankle were still swollen nearly double the normal size and now appeared as if she were wearing a brownish-green sock. The two puncture wounds continually drained, which added to the entire effect. “Lovely,” she murmured.
“I think so,” Drake said, grinning at her with boyish charm.
Rio waited for the sudden surge of black jealousy that seemed to be a curse hanging over his species, but surprisingly it didn’t come. He could feel the brush of Rachael’s fingers along his back, the way she tugged absently on the waistband of his pants. It was such a small thing, but it was
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familiar and comforting. He felt confident and secure in his relationship. Rio smiled and shook his head. He had to keep reminding himself he didn’t have a relationship with her. He reached behind him to capture her hand. “I swear, Rachael, I have flashbacks around you.”
They stared at one another, completely in tune at that moment. Their smiles were slow and genuine, smiles of complete understanding, spreading warmth through them both.
Drake cleared his throat to draw Rio’s attention. “And you always thought it was a myth. Rachael, my dear, I don’t think you have to worry about anyone turning you in for money or for anything else. You’ve come home where you belong.”
“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” Rachael asked. But she could see it on Rio’s face. He knew exactly what Drake was talking about. And she saw something else. Just for the briefest of moments she saw hope and happiness in Rio’s eyes. It flickered there and was quickly covered up. “You do know.”
“Drake has a thing about old legends. He believes in fairy tales. I don’t,” Rio answered gruffly.
Drake nudged him. “But you’re beginning to. What about Maggie and Brandt? Are they a myth? You just don’t want to admit when you’re wrong.” He turned his attention to Rachael. “Rio’s stubborn. No one’s ever been able to do a thing with him. Good luck is all I’m going to say.”
Rio groaned. “Don’t believe him, Rachael. He always has more to say. If we were lucky he’d shut up now, but it isn’t going to happen.”
Kim and Tama nodded in agreement, laughing aloud as they did so.
Rachael was very aware of Rio’s thumb sliding intimately back and forth over her wrist. “Is that true, Drake?”
“Lies, all lies,” he denied, clutching his heart. “And they call themselves my friends. I risk my life for them and this is how they repay me.”
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“Poor thing,” she commiserated, trying not to laugh. Drake and Rio were such powerful, dominant-looking males, yet at that moment they looked like two boys laughing over a silly joke together. Rachael had all kinds of questions, but she put them aside until she could be alone with Rio.
“Rachael’s tired,” Rio said. “We should let her rest while we decide what we’re going to do about finding this lost group of do-gooders.” He saw her swift frown and hastily retracted. “Kidnap victims.”
Drake laughed again. “I always wondered what could make you politically correct. It isn’t a what, it’s a who.”
Rachael watched the four men go out onto the verandah, leaving her with Fritz. They closed the door, but she could hear the low sound of their voices. Somehow it was reassuring to hear them as she drifted between waking and sleep-ing. Rain was intermittent. There would be the murmur of the wind in the trees, the flutter of leaves and the continual sound of insects and birds, of troupes of monkeys chattering back and forth as they moved through branches. The sounds crept into her dreams, familiar and soothing. The humidity was never oppressive, but rather heightened her senses, making her aware of the curves of her body, of her nerve endings, of her sexuality. She felt drops of sweat running down the valley between her breasts.